


The Day the Earth Changed

by MarsDragon



Category: Giant Robo
Genre: Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsDragon/pseuds/MarsDragon
Summary: "Even if it's been wiped out from the history books...it can't be removed from our memories, can it?"Ivan and the Tragedy of Bashtarlle.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Worldbuilding Exchange 2020





	The Day the Earth Changed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [penitence_road](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penitence_road/gifts).



The light leaked in around Ivan's closed eyelids, making him roll over with a groan. "It's midnight, stop reading and go to bed!" 

"That's not me," his roommate Alexei replied, and the the numb horror in his voice made Ivan sit up and pay attention. 

A cold, eerie glow filled the room, covering the worn furnishings with silver. It flowed across the floor and brightened, bit by bit, like the first light before dawn. The only difference was that this came from the west. 

Ivan joined Alexei at the window and they both squinted for the bits of horizon visible through the surrounding buildings. Orosha had been settling down for bed, tired after its long day, but now heads were popping out all over. Everyone was watching the strange glow. No one spoke. 

"Do...do you think it's a nuke?" Ivan whispered as the glow slowly began to fade. His heart was pounding and a part of him felt like screaming, but he couldn't bring himself to raise his voice. 

"What's over there to nuke? I mean, it can't be France or Germany, they're too far away, right? We wouldn't see it from here. So..." Alexei couldn't speak above a whisper either.

"...Bashtarlle." Ivan swallowed hard. "But that's stupid! That's absolutely ridiculous! Bashtarlle is a small, peaceful country! We don't have any enemies!" Bashtarlle had nothing worth getting into a war over. Beautiful nature, a few landmarks of middling historical importance, a tired populace struggling to eke out a living as their economy rotted around them, and that was it. That was all Bashtarlle could offer. The government kept trying to encourage investment and innovation, but all they'd gotten was a string of failures, like the architect who had promised the factory of the futre or those crazy scientists with their clean energy nonsense. 

Alexei agreed. "You wouldn't get anything worth having from conquering Bashtarlle. No offense, Ivan." Ivan nodded to show he wasn't mad and noticed his hands were shaking. He grabbed onto the windowsill to steady himself as the glow faded from the sky. "It's too much for me," Alexei continued. "I'll turn on the news, maybe they know something."

He left, but Ivan stayed by the window, watching. The glow had almost completely disappeared now, leaving only a faint outline around the apartments across the street. Maybe it wasn't Bashtarlle. Maybe it was some sort of planned celebration he hadn't heard about - he'd been working hard lately, he hadn't bothered to check for news from home. Maybe...

"Dammit!" Alexei swore from the other side of their small bedroom. "Radio's busted."

"Have you tried hitting it?"

There was a familiar heavy thump, but the crackle that usually followed was absent. "Nope, nothing. Lemme turn on the lights, maybe one of the tubes needs replacing." More fumbling noises followed. "The hell? The lights don't work either!"

That made Ivan turn around, blinking to adjust his eyes to the darkness. Anything would feel dark after that glow, but now their room felt even gloomier than usual. He couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. 

A sudden, animal instinct made Ivan turn around, back to the window. It was pitch-black outside, without even the annoying light of the streetlamp that kept him up nights. In fact... Ivan stuck his head out the window and looked up and down the street. No lights anywhere. The only thing separating shadow from deeper shadow was the thin light of a crescent moon. "It's a blackout," he reported. "You'd better get the candles."

"Might as well just go to bed," Alexei grumbled, then swore after a heavy crash. "Ow- Sonova-! No point in worrying about what happened yet, and we'd burn the place down if we tried to light candles. Let's get some sleep, it'll all be solved in the morning."

"But..." _What happened to Bashtarlle? What happened to my parents, my house, my homeland?_ The questions rose to Ivan's tongue but refused to leave. Speaking would make them real.

"There's no guarantee it was Bashtarlle, right? It's the closest country in that direction, but hell, it could've been further. Or closer! Maybe something went wrong at the factory over that way and some poor emergency bastards are going to have a bad night." Alexei tried to clap Ivan on the shoulder and ended up smacking his head. "Sorry! But anyway, nothing we can do about it. Better to get some rest and worry about it in the morning."

Ivan let himself be dragged back to his little cot and laid down while Alexei fumbled around for his. He forced himself to pull up the blankets and keep still, staring at the ceiling while every terrible scenario played in his head. Nukes, industrial accidents, super science, aliens... What had happened? Why did there have to be a power outage now, of all times? They were blind and deaf in the dark.

"You got a lot of family back home?" Alexei asked sleepily. 

"Just my parents. Most of my friends left to seek their fortune, but a few stayed behind. And my dad's dog, I think he's still alive."

"They're probably fine. You'll see. In the morning this'll all be some big mix-up and we can swear at whoever's responsible."

Ivan appreciated the attempt at comfort, for all the good it did. He settled down and tried to sleep, but as the hours passed all he could do was stare into the darkness of his first true night.

* * *

The power wasn't back in the morning. 

Ivan and Alexei tested everything in their apartment, from the lights to the oven, and none of it worked. The fridge was warming, the radio was silent, and the water was off. They ate cold dumplings for breakfast and went outside to see what was going on.

The neighbors weren't doing any better, and neither were the folks in the building down the street. Without cars or buses most people couldn't get into work, and were left with nothing better to do than stand around discussing the power outage and the strange glow with the air of a slightly nervous festival. After some debate over walking all the way down to the shop - both Ivan and Alexei decided it wasn't worth it and their old bastard of a boss could get them himself if he wanted - the two settled into milling around with the rest. 

Rumors were flying. Some people said it was war, but no one could agree on who was fighting. Others said it was an industrial accident over at the power plant. Still others claimed it was some sort of astronomical phenomena, or terrorists, or aliens. Someone's cousin had biked over to the factory and reported it intact, but dead. Ivan wasn't sure how much he wanted to believe that one. The factory exploding would be terrible for Orosha's economy, but if it was all right then the next big thing in that direction was...

The idea it was all some sort of bizarre-but-natural effect of the sun was the most comforting. You couldn't do anything about the sun, and who knew what sort of strange things it could do to Earth? It certainly could give off a lot of light, and the local tinkerer swore up and down sunspots could cause electronics to fail. All they had to do was wait it out and maybe replace some things. The smart lads down at the National Science Institute were probably all shielded and working on a solution as they spoke. It would all be all right, just wait and see.

Until then, Ivan sat down on the curb with a cool beer a neighbor didn't want to waste and watched the kids enjoy their day off school. It would all be sorted out by nightfall.

* * *

A week later, Orosha was in crisis. The power still wasn't back, cars wouldn't run, plumbing didn't work, and the people were terrified. The only thing that did still work was fire, and that was almost as dangerous as it not working at all. Just a couple days ago there had been a massive blaze that had eaten up six or seven blocks before being stopped by the river. Ivan had helped run a bucket chain in an attempt to tame it before it got too large, and had been forced to flee when manpower wasn't nearly enough to stop the flames. The homeless had crowded into the park, where conditions were deteriorating by the minute. 

"At least we've still got beds to go back to," Alexei said philosophically as they completed another delivery. Ivan nodded, leaning on the handlebars. Bicycle courier was a popular job for young folk these days - it beat nursing or search and rescue. They'd hooked up their old bikes to an even older cart and earned food by hauling anything and everything around. Food and water were in especially high demand, followed by waste disposal. 

Ivan would be quite happy if he never had to do waste disposal again for the rest of his life.

"We're young and healthy, and things aren't so bad," Alexei continued. "Out in the open air, getting a lot of exercise, trimming the fat..." He leaned his handlebars and sighed. "I guess if the power's never coming back, it's not such a bad life."

"And even still, the sun still rises," Ivan agreed vaguely. They had settled into their new lives with surrealistic ease. Rationing was in full effect, the hospitals were overwhelmed, cops were regularly patrolling the streets, and there were constant rumors about the end of the world...but for Ivan and Alexei, the world kept spinning. He wondered how long that could continue. 

"Come on, we have to get going. That old grandma with the oven should be done with another batch by now," Ivan said, stretching his back and putting his feet on the pedals. 

"Can't believe we'd be thankful for wood ovens in this day and age." Alexei kicked off and they sailed down the street, forcing all the other cyclists to dodge around them. At least the car-clearing teams had done their job on this street, dragging all the wrecked automobiles off to the side by pure muscle power. There were a lot of other streets that were near-impassable. 

Down to the grandma's house where she ruled over a dozen girls and boys, all rushing around to bake bread the old fashioned way. Pack up the new loaves, gulp down water dragged up from the river and purified by hand, and back on the bikes again to run down to the park. After four days it was a well-worn routine, something Ivan could do - had done - in his sleep. At least they weren't going to the hospital today. Someone else could deal with the ever-present stench of death and despair, the exhausted nurses who had no more patience left, and the constant stream of bodies to be dragged away.

They were making good time and Ivan was calculating how many more runs they'd have time to do before dark when Alexei slammed on the brakes, damn near drifting them into the pile of wrecked cars before Ivan could put a foot down and skid them to a bumpy, painful stop.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Ivan yelled. "We start and stop at the same time! We sorted this out days ago! There's no one coming -"

"Red light," Alexei said, and pointed.

There, above the intersection, the traffic lights were blinking red.

Pedestrians and other cyclists stopped in confusion, pointing and whispering at the bright lights. After seven days of darkness it was like seeing something strange and unknown, something magical, something that didn't belong in this world. Electric light! Traffic control! _Civilization_. 

"The lights...the lights are back on?" Ivan couldn't believe it. He just sat on his old bike in the middle of the intersection and stared. 

A burst of static crackled through the air as the few hopefuls who still carried radios around turned them on. People crowded around them, nearly crushing each other in their desperate, pathetic eagerness for news. Snatches of conversation floated past Ivan's ears as he elbowed his way in. 

"-aliens, got to be aliens-"

"Is the water coming back on?"

"When are we getting aid from the capital?"

"-sunspots-"

"A supervillain plot! I heard about this organization, working in the shadows-"

"Hey, someone check a car!"

"-the mysterious power outage is, in fact, over." Everyone shut up when recognizable words came out of the small, handheld radio. "Citizens are advised to remain calm and in place while emergency teams investigate critical infrastructure. Repeat: remain calm and in place while emergency teams investigate critical infrastructure." 

"We knew that," someone muttered. "Tell us why this happened!"

"As of right now, the cause of the power outage is still - I'm sorry, there's a disturbance outside the recording room -" The radio went silent except for a few sharp pops for a long, tense minute. The voice returned. "Breaking news! Here at the station, we've just gotten a news broadcast from Germany about the worldwide power outage! We are relaying it immediately!"

The crowd leaned forward. Someone's knee dug into Ivan's kidney and he barely noticed.

A new voice, loud and confidant with a faintly Mexican accent, came over the airwaves with a new set of pops and hisses. "-can say with assurance this is the result of the experimental reactor meltdown that occurred seven days ago at Bashtarlle. It is an unfortunate fact that the explosion which devastated that beautiful country -" Ivan's heart gave a horrible lurch "- also took away our ability to stop this awful event. We, the surviving scientists, barely made it out alive, and since then have been working tirelessly to undo the terrible damage our colleague did in his mad quest for scientific glory.

"Friends, allies, fellow human beings, we are all deeply saddened by the actions of Dr. Franken von Folger.

"Despite our desperate pleas, he activated the reactor before we could fully verify the safety of our new drive. Blinded by dreams of wealth and fame, he took it upon himself to drag humanity into a new age, and in doing so forced the world to pay a terrible price. The nation of Bashtarlle - the beautiful country that took us in and gave us succor in our defeat - is gone. The world has been without power for a full seven days, costing countless lives and doing uncalculable economic damage. We may never knew the full extent of the devastation Dr. von Folger caused.

"I, Dr. Shizuma de Montblanc III, along with the other surviving scientists, pledge our utmost efforts to help the world recover-"

The rest of the broadcast was cut off under the mob's roar of fury. Franken von Folger! The devil! The destroyer! The cause of all this pain! Every grandparent and every child who had died from lack of medicine, every family who had lost their homes, every man and woman with blistered and bloody hands from trying to work in a world without machines - all on his head! The madman! The scum! 

Within an hour they were burning von Folger in effigy all across the city. Ivan was proud to help light the flames.

* * *

The world recovered quickly. Dr Shizuma and his team rushed to create a new version of their drive, and this time it worked. Cheap, endless, recyclable power, exactly as promised. The first Shizuma-compatible appliances appeared within weeks, hybrid cars and trucks within months, and by the year's end the electric grid was supposed to be ready to switch to Shizuma. Word on the street was that non-Shizuma power - good old coal, gas, and nuclear energy - was going to be outlawed in the next five years. The government wasn't doing anything to stop the rumors. Every day there was a new speech about peace and freedom, the third energy revolution, mankind finally moving into a true golden age.

What a joke. 

Ivan kicked a stone down the silent street. Ruins stretched out before and behind him. There was nothing but empty, gaping houses, and walls split like hungry mouths. Even the cracks had been scoured clean of weeds. Nothing grew in Bashtarlle anymore.

Five months after the tragedy and no one cared. No one was allowed to care. People mourned, but they did so in private, clutching the memory of their loved ones lost to fire, to disease, to any accident of those seven days, only at night, in the lonely darkness. That was when the fear came out, when tragedy seemed only a breath away. During the day they pasted on smiles and welcomed Shizuma as the savior of the world, rejoicing in the glorious new dawn. Why cry over the past when the future was so blindingly bright?

Ivan couldn't even find his own house. The explosion from the reactor meltdown had blasted the entire neighborhood flat. He had picked his away through the rubble and debris, but it was useless. There was no chance of finding anything in that wreck. Nothing to keep. Nothing to bury. Just the jumbled wreck of what had once been a small, half-forgotten, beloved town. 

He laughed, because it was funny, dammit. Wave something new and shiny in front of humans and they'd forget all their suffering to grasp it. Really, who did care about the past? Ivan could stand on the street corner yelling about Bashtarlle and no one would listen, not when Shizuma power held opportunities galore. Better to join Alexei and ride the new wave instead of resisting it. Better to forget!

The breeze tickled his nose with the scent of ash and decay as Ivan walked back to his Shizuma/gasoline hybrid car, taunting him with memories. Even if the world moved on, even if he did his duty and kept silent...in the back of his mind, in the depths of his heart, Ivan could never forget.

* * *

The lid closed with a soft, yet undeniably final, click. Ivan grinned in single-minded satisfaction and picked up the little box, careful not to jostle it too hard, wrapped it in cloth, and placed it inside a soft sack. It was, perhaps, a bit overdoing it, but it was the first bomb Ivan had made and he wanted to be sure it would work right. He had followed every instruction in the dingy, badly photocopied pamphlet, and had high hopes for the results.

The brand new Shizuma recycling plant was going _down_. 

They deserved it, he reiterated spitefully to himself as he double-checked his rope, wire cutters, lockpicks, pistol, and knife. They thought they could just forget Bashtarlle, forget the seven days of darkness, and bury the past with the monster Folgler. They were wrong. He'd prove them wrong.

Ivan took one last glance around the dingy little hole he lived in these days, after the knock-down drag-out argument with Alexei had ended with Ivan kicked out with no refund on his share of the next three month's rent. He wouldn't miss it. Single quarters for someone that spent more time drinking than working weren't worth getting misty-eyed over. Jail might even be a step up.

He glanced around fugitively as he stepped out onto the street, his long black cape swirling around him. No one. He kept to the edge of the street, away from the bright new Shizuma lamps, and stole away into the darkness towards the recycling plant.

The fence was no issue. He scrambled over it with a minimum of difficulty and landed more-or-less smoothly on the other side, then bolted before the single guard could wander over to check what was going on. He'd been watching and marking the patrol routes for weeks now, and the work paid off now.

Not that security was all that tight. A few cameras, a few guards, but really, who would even want to blow up a Shizuma recycling plant? It was the _future_. Ivan could just about spit. He edged along the wall outside the main facility, eye on one of the windows. It was pretty high up, but that was what the rope was for. All he had to do was throw it carefully, just...like...

The sound of breaking glass echoed through the night. Ivan flinched and looked around in a panic. Any second now some puffed-up bastard with a flashlight would be descending upon him, and the thought spurred him up the rope without touching the wall. He fumbled with the broken window, cursing under his breath, _please open, don't cut me you bastard, come on_ \- Finally, after a blinding, blood-pounding minute, it creaked open. Ivan took one last frantic glance around - no lights in sight - and ducked inside. 

Inside was pitch black. Ivan dropped, doing a neat flip and landing in a perfect crouch. The only thing missing was someone to appreciate it, but - oh well. Sacrifices and all that. He slipped the pack with the precious bomb off his back and crept forward into the darkness. The conveyor belt should be a few steps away...

Something large and heavy slammed into him from behind. Ivan went down flailing as the lights went up, blinding him in the glare.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in!" 

The voice was smug, superior, and grating. Ivan grit his teeth and lashed out with one hand, only gaining a foot grinding that hand into the concrete floor. He blinked his streaming eyes and looked up at whoever had caught him.

Not plant staff, that was for sure. The man in front of him wore a sharp, if slightly ill-fitting suit, a wide grin, and a red hood that covered his entire face. Surrounding him on both sides was a group of large, heavyset men in all-over black, complete with equally-face concealing hoods. One of their friends was the one kneeling on Ivan's back, with the knee in his kidneys. Behind them all, a tall, well-groomed man in a tailored black suit lounged by the recycling machinery, smoking a cigar and ignoring the ruckus. 

"Now...what did you think you were doing, crawling around in the middle of the night? It's time for all good little boys to be in bed, you know!" The man in the red hood leaned back, his grin growing somehow even wider. 

"Who the hell are _you_?!" Ivan snapped back, thrashing against the grip of the man on his back. "What are you doing here?! You're not staff!"

That got his head rapped hard against the floor, flashing stars in front of his eyes. The man in the red hood clicked his tongue. "That's none of your business, my dear boy. Now stop asking questions, it's not good for your health." One of the men in black whispered to him, holding out Ivan's pack for inspection. Red Hood took one look inside and threw his head back with uproarious laughter. "A bomb! My _dear_ boy-" every endearment strengthened Ivan's desire to punch him - "what were you even planning to do with that little thing? Something like that could barely scuff the paint of these fine energy renewers. Throw it away," he said with a vague wave of his hand, and with that Ivan's precious bomb was carried away, never to be used. Ivan watched it go with a strange, numb feeling of rage.

"And as for you..." Red Hood adjusted his tie. "You'll die, of course. Is there any problem with one of the men garroting him out back, Mister Alberto? I know you want to keep the noise down..." He bowed obsequiously towards the man with the cigar, who hadn't appeared to notice any of the proceeding conversation.

Ivan didn't hear the man's reply over the cold rush in his ears. That was it? His grand plan, his bold strike against the forgetful world, was to end before it even began? He was just going to be strangled by some nameless flunky? The only person who would notice his death would be his landlady, and she'd only care that the rent wasn't paid. The world would roll over Ivan as easily as it had rolled over his parents, his friends, his entire homeland. There was no one left to remember him, no one to mourn. 

No.

It couldn't end like this.

His life wouldn't be a waste.

He wouldn't let it be a waste!

Ivan threw himself backward with a wild scream, struggling in a mad, desperate frenzy. The man on his back cursed and shoved forward, trying to crack Ivan's face against the concrete again. Ivan rolled, twisting his body even as his head met floor with a painful noise. If he could just get one arm free - if he just had a chance - he just needed something, anything to give him an edge!

Something flashed behind his eyes, quite unlike the stars flashing in front of them, and Ivan's brain unfolded in a new way. Power was spilling down his arm, the shadows at the edges of the plant clicked into focus, and everything around him moved very slowly. His trapped arms slipped free without a second thought. 

It was so fast Ivan didn't have time to register the man was off his back until he was standing straight and the man was sprawled out in front of him, curled up and whimpering. Ivan's heart still beat a desperate, staccato rhythm, his hand - his _glowing_ hand - was shaking, and everything was moving in fits and starts. The black-clad men circled around him were watching him warily, but made no movement. 

"What are you idiots waiting for? Get him!" Red Hood shouted, and that was the signal.

Ivan dodged one man who suddenly seemed to stop in mid-air, dashed forward away from one that had come from behind and then stopped, and hit another in the face. Everything was bright, everything was clear, and the only thing Ivan could think of was to get away. He'd try again. He'd remind the world of Bashtarlle or die trying. He turned to a door, hoping it was the exit, and something slammed him into the wall.

The world came back slowly. Ivan blinked and tried to raise his aching head. People were talking, but he couldn't understand the words. The light had shifted from bright to washed out and pale, and Ivan felt strangely dizzy. His side didn't hurt in a way he felt meant it was going to start hurting very badly very soon.

"Don't move." The voice was cool and unfamiliar, with an accent Ivan couldn't quite place. Ivan tried to focus. Red Hood was off to the side, yelling at his men, but right in front of Ivan, looking at him with bored disdain, was the man with the cigar. He took a long drag from it, completely relaxed, but something red and black that hurt to look at swirled around his other hand. 

Ivan didn't move. Some deep, long-buried instinct, from the days of mammoths and saber-toothed tigers, told him his life depended on staying still. The strength radiated off the man in waves, more than Ivan could ever hope to match. It was overwhelming.

"Well." The man blew out a cloud of smoke and caught Ivan with a sharp, piercing gaze. "This is unexpected. So the would-be terrorist is an esper to boot!"

Ivan have vaguely heard of espers before, but like the scientists making miracles in their labs, the concept had seemed to have nothing to do with him. Espers were strange creatures you read about in the paper, with the ability to shoot fire from their hands or run faster than any human alive, and they were always in some far-off place living lives completely separate from ordinary people. And now he had those abilities too. He gave his now-normal hand a long look, and was surprised to see it shaking. The world was white around the edges now.

"You realise, of course, that we cannot let you go." The man flicked a bit of ash off his cigar. "Hpmh. What were you doing here in the first place?"

It took Ivan a moment to realise he was expected to answer. "I...I came here to blow up the recycling plant. Because they've forgotten Bashtarlle! They've forgotten all the people who died, and everything we've- everything I've lost! It's all gone! That's why-"

"Pathetic." The man cut him off with a single flick of his eyes. "That's all you've got? Some half-baked revenge story? I expected better." Ivan opened his mouth to protest - this was serious, he meant it, it wasn't half-baked - but the man kept going before he could speak. "As if destroying a small recycling plant in a tiny backwater like this would do anything. You're nothing more than a fly buzzing around an elephant."

He was right, much as it hurt to admit it. Ivan let his head hit the concrete with a dull thunk. The shock was wearing off, and now he could clearly feel the pain all down his side. 

"If you really want to make a splash, join us."

"What?" Ivan pushed himself up again, wincing with pain. He couldn't have just heard that.

The man took another drag on his cigar. "You heard me. Join us. Join me. I am Shockwave Alberto, A-class agent of the Big Fire, and it's not much, but...I see something in you." His thin lips curled in a smile. "Join us and gain a better purpose than sulking around recycling plants."

Ivan's mouth was dry, and he swallowed convulsively. "What...what purpose?"

Alberto's eyes were flat and calm, but there was a vicious spark in their depths. "We're going to conquer the world."

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea for Ivan backstory fic even before I saw your request, so this worked out rather well. My reach exceeded my grasp, and I didn't end up touching on all the things I wanted to include, but I hope you like it anyway.


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